The story of Missy’s current, rather empty daily life is interspersed with memories of her first meeting with her husband, Leo, at Cambridge in 1956, their subsequent marriage and their life together bringing up their son, Alistair and daughter, Melanie. For various reasons, Missy now finds herself living alone in her ‘barren old house’. As she recalls, ‘It seemed like my whole life had been a cacophony, a constant buzzing and background chatter, and then Leo went and there was suddenly total and absolute stillness. Stillness, and silence and space.’ That silence and stillness is ended thanks to a chance encounter in her local park with the irrepressible Sylvie which sees Bob the dog come into Missy’s life, opening up a whole new world of connections, including a new friend, Angela, and Angela’s son Otis.
The book is full of lovely touches of humour, such as Missy’s thoughts on the reading of poetry aloud (the occasion of her first meeting with Leo), ‘Like religion and Bongo Boards, best practised in private’. Or Bob’s habit of barking when anyone approaches the house, making her (yes, Bob is a she) ‘less of a guard dog and more of a very loud doorbell’. I also loved the description of the numerous objects in Missy’s attic as ‘the leftovers of lost lives’.
The book has some wonderful set pieces, such as Missy’s participation in a pub quiz team at which the prize, much to Angela’s delight, includes a signed Jeremy Corbyn colouring book (this is 2016 after all), and a dash across London in the quest for the perfect birthday cake, facilitated by Sylvie’s seemingly inexhaustible list of contacts. Perhaps my favourite was the Christmas Day party at Sylvie’s house, to which Missy reluctantly accepts an invitation, reminding me a little of when Scrooge finally accepts his nephew’s invitation to join their festivities in A Christmas Carol. Looking around at Sylvie interacting with her guests, Missy realises that, although filled with happiness for much of the time, her life with Leo was rather insular. ‘We existed in our own bubble, floating along without ever really being bothered enough to probe deeper or – heaven forbid – pierce our protective film.’ Missy comes to recognise that it’s people who truly like themselves who have the greatest capacity for friendship and that this involves letting others in and accepting help when it’s offered.
I’m sure I won’t be the only reader to fall in love with Missy. Not that she’s perfect or hasn’t made mistakes in her life. However, I felt she had a tendency to undersell herself. For example, she’s thoughtful and generous when it comes to choosing gifts for others and has a natural rapport with children. For me, the discovery of the true extent of Missy’s courage and devotion created the perfect ending to the book.
The book is full of lovely touches of humour, such as Missy’s thoughts on the reading of poetry aloud (the occasion of her first meeting with Leo), ‘Like religion and Bongo Boards, best practised in private’. Or Bob’s habit of barking when anyone approaches the house, making her (yes, Bob is a she) ‘less of a guard dog and more of a very loud doorbell’. I also loved the description of the numerous objects in Missy’s attic as ‘the leftovers of lost lives’.
The book has some wonderful set pieces, such as Missy’s participation in a pub quiz team at which the prize, much to Angela’s delight, includes a signed Jeremy Corbyn colouring book (this is 2016 after all), and a dash across London in the quest for the perfect birthday cake, facilitated by Sylvie’s seemingly inexhaustible list of contacts. Perhaps my favourite was the Christmas Day party at Sylvie’s house, to which Missy reluctantly accepts an invitation, reminding me a little of when Scrooge finally accepts his nephew’s invitation to join their festivities in A Christmas Carol. Looking around at Sylvie interacting with her guests, Missy realises that, although filled with happiness for much of the time, her life with Leo was rather insular. ‘We existed in our own bubble, floating along without ever really being bothered enough to probe deeper or – heaven forbid – pierce our protective film.’ Missy comes to recognise that it’s people who truly like themselves who have the greatest capacity for friendship and that this involves letting others in and accepting help when it’s offered.
I’m sure I won’t be the only reader to fall in love with Missy. Not that she’s perfect or hasn’t made mistakes in her life. However, I felt she had a tendency to undersell herself. For example, she’s thoughtful and generous when it comes to choosing gifts for others and has a natural rapport with children. For me, the discovery of the true extent of Missy’s courage and devotion created the perfect ending to the book.